


Scars

by Jessica_Bones_Winchester



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Clint is the best, F/M, PTSD, Slow Romance, Trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-23
Updated: 2019-10-08
Packaged: 2020-05-16 18:40:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 12,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19323859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jessica_Bones_Winchester/pseuds/Jessica_Bones_Winchester
Summary: When Cora Miller is rescued by the Avengers, she's suffering from emotional and physical trauma. Clint wants to help her through it, but she won't let anyone close. (Takes place between Winter Soldier and Age of Ultron.)





	1. Chapter 1

Clint was glad to be back in New York. After traveling the world sniffing out HYDRA bases for four months, he was ready for some time off. Recon work was the worst. It wasn't too bad while Natasha was with him, they worked well together and she knew how to have fun with it, but Steve called her back to help follow up on one of the bases they had found. That was two weeks ago. It had been a long two weeks.

His arrival at the Avengers tower would be logged, and someone would haul him into a conference room for a debriefing soon. He dropped his bag in his room then went to the kitchen for a bottle of water. Walking back to his room he passed through the common area and saw a woman on a coach. Her knees were up against her chest with her arms wrapped around them, and her long, auburn hair hid most of her face.

"Hi," Clint said.

She jumped, but held her sitting fetal position.

Clint looked around for someone, anyone, but she was the only person there.

"Are you a new recruit?"

She didn't move. Didn't say a word.

"Ooo-k. My name's Clint."

"Her name is Cora," Steve said as he entered the room. "Cora Miller."

"Is she ok?"

"Not really. I'll explain later."

"But she's not a bad guy, right?"

"No. No, we don't think so. Let's talk about the rest of your trip, then I'll fill you in."

"Sounds good."

Clint walked a little closer to the woman.

"I guess I'll see you later. It was nice to meet you, Cora."

Clint tried to brush a bit of her hair away from her face.

"Don't touch me!"

Clint and Steve both took a step back, and Clint held his hands up. Her hair was parted like a curtain, enough for him to see one wide, terrified eye.

"Sorry. No touching. It's just... your hair was in your face and I thought I should move it so we could see each other better."

"Don't touch me." Her voice trembled as she looked down.

"Should we leave her like this?"

"I'll send someone to sit with her."

Clint followed Steve, but turned to look back at Cora. She never moved.

"What's wrong with her?"

"The HYDRA base you and Natasha located in Chicago. She was there. She was the only one still alive."

"What do you mean?"

"They were doing human experiments. We only know who she is because they had a file on her, and Tony did some research."

When they got to the conference room, Steve pulled a file off the table and handed it to Clint.

"Cora Miller, thirty-eight. She went missing six months ago. Never made it to work. Got on the L train and was never seen again."

"Until you guys found her," Clint said as he flipped through the file. There were pictures of her strapped to a table, blindfolded, gagged, bruises on her face and arms. "What the hell did they do to her?"

"We don't know. The files we have don't detail their procedures or their goals, and she's not talking."

"Would you? Her behavior makes sense now. She's got some serious PTSD, man."

Steve nodded. "We're trying to give her some space. She seems better when she's left alone."

"Somebody has to help her get through that."

"We will. But she's only been here two days. Like I said, we're giving her some space. She has a room, but she seems to like the open areas more."

Clint tossed the file back on the table. "You would, too, if you lived in a six by four cell for half a year. You said she was the only one still alive. There were others?"

"Five others. Gun shots to the head. We think they started executing them when they realized we were there."

"How did she manage to escape?"

"She was on the table, not in the cells with the others. They didn't have time to get to her before we did."

Clint stared at the folder until Steve sat.

"Tell me about the last leg of your trip."

After he filled Steve in, Clint went back through the common room. Cora was still on then sofa, still curled into herself.

"Cora..."

She tensed, but didn't move. Clint kept his distance.

"It's Clint. I just wanted to apologize for before... for the hair thing. I promise to keep my hands to myself from now on."

She gave no acknowledgment.

"Anyway, if you ever want to talk, only if you want to, I'm willing to listen. I know some of what you went through, and... well... I'm here if you need me."

He backed away a bit before turning on his heels and leaving.

"Thank you," Cora whispered.

Clint barely heard her, but he stopped and looked back. She hadn't moved.

"You're welcome."


	2. Chapter 2

Clint lay in bed staring at the ceiling. Hopping from one time zone to another never failed to mess up his sleep pattern. It was two in the morning before he finally gave up and decided to shoot pool for a while. The place would be quiet, and he could be alone for a while.

Or so he thought.

"Cora?"

She was still sitting in the same spot, though she'd unfolded herself from the fetal position. She sat hunched on the edge of the couch, her hands in her lap. When Clint said her name, she stiffened.

"I'm surprised you're still awake. Look, I'm gonna play some pool okay. The table is right over there, behind you, so you'll hear some stuff banging and clinking around."

Cora didn't move, but her fingers twisted and untwisted in her lap.

"Have you eaten? Had anything to drink?"

No reply. Clint sighed.

"Ok." He grabbed a bottle of water from the bar and slowly sat it on the floor next to Cora. "You need to at least stay hydrated."

He started to walk away, but the fact that she hadn't moved worried him. Surely someone was checking on her. Why was she still sitting here?

"Hey... Cora," he sat on the couch across the seating area, facing her, "they told you that you have a room while you're here, right? Do you need help finding it?"

Her eyes shifted to him for just a moment before flicking to the floor.

"We won't hurt you, Cora."

She flinched, and Clint leaned forward, his arms resting in his knees.

"They told you that when they took you, didn't they?"

Cora nodded and pulled her knees back to her chest.

"I can't make you believe me, but we really won't hurt you. We're not HYDRA. We don't work for any government or secret agency. We're just some people who try to keep bad guys like HYDRA from hurting people like you."

She nodded, and a tear slipped down her cheek.

"You let me know if you need anything. I'll be right over there."

Clint gave her a wide berth as he walked around her couch to the pool table. He kept an eye on her as he racked the balls and broke. She jumped with each noise. After his first shot, she moved to the other couch so that she was facing his direction. She probably didn't like the idea of someone behind her, unseen. Clint was just pleased to see her move. She'd been in that spot for hours. And there was no telling how long she'd been there before he got back.

After a while, she turned her head to look out of the large window, revealing a scar on her right cheek. It was just a glimpse as her hair moved, but Clint could see that it ran from the side of her nose, to her jawline, just below her ear.

Clint couldn't imagine what gave her that scar. Part of him hoped she had it before HYDRA took her, but he knew that wasn't likely. It looked recent.

Clint continued to play his solo game of pool. He purposely took his focus off of her so he could try to relax, but after a few more shots Cora walked over to the window. Clint continued to play, not wanting her to feel like she was drawing attention to herself, but he kept an eye on her.

"You said I have a room while I'm here?"

Clint was lining up his shot when she spoke, barely loud enough for her voice to carry to him. He stood straight.

"Yeah. They're pretty nice rooms. I have one, too."

She looked his way. "You do?"

"I do."

"You like it here?"

"It's pretty nice. Better than paying rent somewhere. Especially in New York."

Cora turned her attention back to the window, and was quiet a while.

"How long will I be here?"

Clint put the pool cue down and walked toward her. He stopped behind the couch, giving her plenty of space.

"I don't know. I think everyone wants to make sure you're ok, and find out exactly what happened to you."

She lowered her head, shaking it.

"You don't have to talk about it now," Clint said.

Cora trembled and wrapped her arms around herself.

"But I hope you will, eventually. For your own sake."

Cora walked back to the couch and was about to sit down again.

"Wait, wait..." Clint pinched the bridge of his nose before he looked at her again. "You have a nice, comfy bed, all for you. It's in your own private space. Not as big as this area, but it's a good size room. Let me go with you. You can get settled and get a good night's sleep."

"What about your game?"

Clint waved a dismissive hand toward the pool table. "I just couldn't sleep. All that traveling throws me off balance." He motioned for her to go first, but she stiffened. "Ok," he said, "I'll go first and you can follow."

She backed away a bit as he rounded the seating area, but she followed him to the sleeping quarters on the other side of the building. It wasn't until they got to the bedroom hallway that Clint realized he didn't know which room they'd put her in.

"Ummm... did they show you which room is yours?"

She pointed one door down on the left.

Clint nodded. "My room is the next door over on the right. Natasha's is across from mine... next to yours."

"The redhead."

"That's right."

Cora stared at her door, but didn't move to go in. Clint shrugged.

"You can go in."

"I'm just— I was locked up for so long." A tear slid down her cheek and her voice cracked. "I don't know if I can."

"Ok... how about this? I'll go in first. When you come in you'll see how big it is even with both of us in there. Is that ok?"

She hesitated, but nodded.

"Ok," Clint whispered. He went inside, put his arms out, and turned in a circle. "See? Spacious."

Cora slowly took a few steps into the room.

"You've got a great bed here," Clint said, pointing, "and a bunch of drawer space to put your stuff."

"I don't have anything."

"Right. I'm sorry."

Cora wrapped her arms tight around herself.

"What kind of stuff do you like?"

She shrugged. "I like quiet."

"Ok, then. I'll get out of your hair." He walked out into the hall. "You want to leave the door open?"

Cora nodded vigorously. Clint gave one sharp nod, then went back to his room. He left his door open, too.


	3. Chapter 3

Clint still couldn't get to sleep. No matter what he tried, he tossed and turned and practically stared a hole through the ceiling.

"This is ridiculous," he mumbled.

A distant groan made him sit up. He listened a while, and a scream pierced the quiet. He was on his feet, following the sound to Cora's room. She sat curled up with her back against the headboard, hugging a pillow, eyes wide.

"You ok?"

She nearly jumped out of her skin when he spoke, but she settled when she saw him. She shook her head.

Steve joined Clint in the doorway.

"What's wrong?"

"Don't know," Clint said. "I heard her scream and ran in."

Clint took a couple of steps toward her, but when Steve followed Cora flinched. Clint turned to Steve and whispered.

"Maybe both of us being here isn't necessary. I'll try to talk to her."

Steve nodded. "She seems to trust you. You sure you want to take this on?"

"If it helps her, then, yeah."

Steve nodded. "Cora, we're all here for you if you need anything. I hope you know that."

She didn't respond, and Steve left. Clint leaned against the wall, just inside her door.

"Nightmare?"

She nodded.

"Those suck. You wanna talk about it?"

She shook her head.

"Ok. You want me to stay a while?"

She nodded.

Clint sat in a chair across the room, making sure to keep it far enough away from the bed for Cora to be comfortable. She eventually lay back down, and Clint finally fell asleep.

Clint woke around nine in the morning. Cora was still asleep, but her face was far from peaceful. With her hair away from her face, the scar on her cheek was hard to miss. It was definitely recent, maybe three, four weeks. Definitely inflicted while she was with HYDRA.

Clint stood and stretched. He didn't want her to wake up and find him missing, but he couldn't stay. He searched the room for a pen and paper and left her a note:

"Went to the kitchen for breakfast. Feel free to join me."

Pancakes were calling his name.

Steve was already in from his daily run, showered and dressed. Clint groaned.

"How do you already have things accomplished?"

"It's called getting up early."

"Yeah, well, to get up early you actually have to sleep through the night."

"She have more trouble?"

"Not her, man. Me. Traveling that long really messes me up."

Steve nodded. "So, did you get Cora to tell you what happened?"

"Nightmare. That's all I know. I'm not pushing her. Whatever she went through really got to her."

"Did you see the scar on her face?"

"I did."

"I can't imagine what she went through."

"I just hope she got that scar fighting back. And I hope she got a few good punches in."

"Either way, she's traumatized."

Clint poured a mug of coffee. "Does she have family?"

"She does. In Chicago."

"Do they know she's alive and safe?"

"They do. Tony got in touch with them, and explained that we were keeping her in a safe location for a while, just to be sure."

Steve's phone rang. He spoke a few minutes, then hung up.

"That was Natasha. We have to go."

"Where is Nat?"

"She went in to scope out the suspected HYDRA base you two found in Salzburg."

"I take it we were right?"

"Yeah. I'll get Tony. You, uh..."

"I'm staying. If I don't get a good night's sleep soon I'll die."

Steve chuckled. "Plus we need someone here with Cora."

"Well, that's a given."

"You're really ok with this?"

"Staying? Absolutely."

"No. You're the only one Cora has trusted to be around her. She needs that."

"I agree."

"We need her to open up."

"She will. In her own time. She's a person, Cap, not an information source."

"That's what I mean. This will take time. Are you sure you're willing to be the one who stays behind and focuses on her?"

"Not even a question."

Steve nodded. "If anything important comes up—"

"I'll get in the touch."

Clint got to work on a batch of pancakes. Just as he was finishing up, he caught sight of Cora peeking around the fridge.

"Good morning," he said. "You like pancakes?"

She nodded.

"Have a seat."

Cora hesitated, but took a seat at the small table in the kitchen area.

"I'm sorry you had to sleep in my chair. That couldn't have been comfortable."

Clint smiled. "Are you kidding? I actually slept. I'd been trying to do that all night. Coffee?"

She nodded. "I appreciate you staying with me. I know I must seem like an absolute mess, but—"

"Don't worry about it. If you weren't a mess I might think you were crazy."

Clint sat a mug in front of her. She took it between her hands and stared at it.

"You..." her voice was barely a whisper. "You don't think I'm crazy?"

"Not at all."

"I feel crazy."

Clint slid a couple of pancakes onto a plate and put it in front of her.

"I can imagine you might. But you're not."

Clint put the cream, sugar, and maple syrup in the middle of the table, then joined her with his own plate. It was the closest she allowed anyone to get.

"I heard what you said to Steve before. I promise I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but I was a little afraid to come in, so I stopped, and—"

"Hey... it's ok."

She took a deep breath. "I'm glad you're the one staying with me. You... make me feel a little normal."

"You are normal."

A tear slid down her cheek. "I don't feel normal."

"Hey, now... pancakes don't go good with tears. They're too salty."

Cora let out a nervous chuckle as she wiped her face.

"Come on," he said. "Eat up. You need to stay strong."

"I'm not strong."

"You survived six months with HYDRA. You're strong."

"You seem to know a lot about the people who took me."

"Steve's been fighting them for a long time. He shut down the biggest part of their operation not too long ago, but there are still bases around the world."

"Like the one I was in."

"Right."

"Part of me wants to talk about it, but every time I think about what they did..."

Her voice cracked and she covered her mouth as tears filled her eyes. Clint reached out to take her hand, but she yanked it back.

"Sorry. You don't have to talk about it yet. Take your time."

Cora nodded through her tears. Her hand slipped behind her curtain of hair and touched her scar.

Once Cora was able to stop the tears, she took a tentative bite of the pancakes. She closed her eyes, her shoulders loosened, and she moaned.

"I know it's just pancakes, but these are so good."

"Of course they are. I made them."

She grinned. "I didn't realize how much I missed comfort food."

"Yeah, I guess pancakes are a comfort food."

They ate in silence for a while. Clint tried to hide it, but he was amazed at how much she'd spoken. She trusted him, that was good, but she still didn't want to be touched. Understandable. There was still a ways to go.


	4. Chapter 4

The view from Stark Tower was amazing. Cora stood at the window and looked out over the city. Her mind raced. Memories of her captors hovering over her never left. She saw their faces, and the close walls of her cell, every minute of the day. The only person who had been able to distract her for even a few minutes was Clint. Breakfast was nice, and delicious. Her captors fed her, but just to keep her alive. More often than not there wasn't much, and it wasn't good.

She was jittery. Now that she was safe, staying cooped up was making her miserable. She roamed around the common room until she walked past the pool table. She ran her fingers along the edge then grabbed a cue. There were already balls scattered on the surface from Clint's abandoned game the night before. She lined up the cue to aim at the solid purple ball.

The cue ball didn't make it anywhere near where she aimed, but she walked around and lined it up again. She pulled the cue back and was about to take a shot when Clint leaned against the table.

"You'll never hit it like that."

"Like what?"

"Your grip is wrong, and you're not accounting for the spin of the ball."

"You just hit the ball."

He chuckled. "No. Pool is physics and geometry. I don't claim to know much about either of those things, but I can see it when I line up the shot." He grabbed a cue and motioned to the spot next to her. "Can I show you?"

Cora hesitated.

"I won't get too close. I promise."

She nodded and took a step away as Clint stepped next to her. He leaned over the table and lined up the shot.

"First of all, your grip. Come do what I do."

He tilted his head in a come-here motion. She kept her eyes on him, but she moved next to him and put her cue into position.

"Good," Clint said. "But you need to get your left hand like mine... and use your fingers."

Cora examined Clint's grip and slipped her hand down the cue a bit, adjusting her fingers.

"There you go. Now," he stepped back, "stand where I was and line up the shot."

Cora took his place and leaned over the table.

"Don't forget your grip," Clint said.

"Right." She adjusted. "Now what?"

"Lower the tip of the cue a bit... good. Now just a hair to the right. Let it glide through your fingers, and—"

Cora took her shot and the cue ball struck her target, but it just missed the pocket.

"That was good," Clint smiled.

"It missed."

"But you hit it, unlike the first time."

Cora smiled. "Yeah, I did. Thanks."

"No problem. I mean, if you're gonna play you should learn to play well."

She leaned on her cue. "Any more tips?"

"Yeah, the cue is a tool, not a cane." He winked. "And keep practicing."

Clint put his cue up and walked away.

"Did you want to play?" Cora asked.

"I have to hit the gym."

Cora felt the surge of panic rush through her.

"You're leaving?"

"No, there's a gym here in the building. Just a couple of floors down."

"Oh."

"You ok?"

"Yeah, I just thought... I'm fine."

"Did you want to come with me? There's lots of equipment and weights."

Cora nodded and put the cue on the pool table.

"Let's go."

Clint held out his hand, but Cora just stared at it. Clint sighed.

"Sorry... I wasn't thinking."

"Please don't apologize. You've been so great about everything. It's not you."

"I know." He cocked his head toward the hall. "Come on."

In the gym Clint gave her a quick rundown of all the available equipment.

"I've never been into running," she said, "so you're not likely to get me on a treadmill."

"Same here." Clint stared at her as she looked around the room. "I know what you might enjoy. Over here."

Cora followed him to a large punching bag.

"This is a good way to work off nervous energy and let out a little aggression."

"I don't know. I'm not very strong."

"Doesn't matter. There's no goal here. You just... let loose." He held up a pair of sparing gloves. "May I?"

She took a step back. "Maybe another time."

"Cora-"

"I'll let you work out."

She turned on her heel and practically ran from the room. Why was it so hard for her to get close? She knew Clint meant her no harm, but the thought of being touched just brought back the memories of her abduction. The tests. The experiments. The way the doctor would gently stroke her face or arm before putting her through the most horrible pain.

She stopped and braced herself against the wall, doubled over, breath coming fast.

Calm down. You're safe. He's different.

Her vision started to blur, and bile rose in her throat as the hall in front of her spun. She squeezed her eyes shut until she heard Clint's voice. He was stooped down in front of her. She didn't even realize she'd fallen to her knees.

"What's wrong?"

"Panic..."

"Panic attack?"

She nodded.

"What do I do?"

She shook her head. "Stay."

"Of course."

She kept her eyes shut until the nausea passed, then she tried to focus on breathing. After a few minutes she was calm enough to stand. Clint stood with her, his hands out as if ready to catch her should she wobble.

"I take it that wasn't your first panic attack."

She shook her head.

"Let's get you sitting down, huh?"

Cora followed him into the kitchen. She sat at the bar and he gave her a bottle of water.

"Thank you."

Clint stood on the opposite side of the bar, leaning forward on his elbows.

"When did those start?"

"I had a few when... they had me. That's the first one I've had since I got here."

"Did something trigger it? Did I do something?"

"No... no, not you. I was thinking about this one doctor. He was... twisted."

"They're all twisted."

"No, this guy..."

Her voice trailed off and she stared at the counter. Clint snapped his fingers in front of her face and she jumped.

"You zoned out on me."

"I did?"

"Yeah. I said your name twice."

"I can't think about him. Out of everything I went through, he was the worst."

"Did he... I mean, were you..."

She searched his eyes and realized what he meant.

"No. No one ever tried anything like that. But he was... oddly affectionate."

"Affectionate?"

She started to speak, but the memory of his face made her stomach turn. She shook her head.

"I can't."

"It's ok. Hey, you talked a little about it. That's good."

"Maybe. I'm sorry I kept you from your work out."

"Are you kidding me? The work out can wait. I'm not leaving you alone now."

"I'll be ok. It passed."

He just stared at her until she had to look away.

"I'll be fine. I promise."


	5. Chapter 5

Over the next few days, Cora was more relaxed. She and Clint played a couple of games of pool. They watched a few movies together, and she didn't flinch when Clint sat on the same couch. Granted, he made sure to give her space, but it was still progress.

During one game of pool, while lining up a shot, Cora tucked her hair behind her ear, fully exposing her scar. Clint carefully averted his eyes and made sure to make full eye contact with her while her hair was tucked. She had been so careful to keep it hidden under her hair, this had to be some kind of progress.

The team got back that night. They were in the middle of the game, but as soon as the others entered Cora reverted back to the nervous woman she'd been a few days before. When she saw Natasha, Cora brushed her fingers over her scar, and untucked her hair.

Clint stepped next to her and whispered.

"You know them. They're the ones who rescued you."

She flinched, but nodded. "Don't leave me."

"I won't."

Tony grabbed a few beers from the bar and joined the others on the couches.

"Here's to a win."

They all raised their bottles and drank.

"What's the win?" Clint asked as he walked over. Cora was right behind him.

"We caught a few," Tony said. "Including one that got away from us in Chicago. We're hoping he can tell us more about what they were doing."

"What's his name?"

Every eye went to Cora when she spoke. It was Steve who finally answered.

"Victor Schmitt."

Cora's eyes widened and she grabbed Clint's hand. His eyes flicked down in surprise before connecting with hers.

"Who is he?"

"It's him."

"The twisted one?

She nodded, and a tear slid down her cheek.

"He's here?" She asked.

"In a cell," Steve said. "Yes."

Her breath became fast and shallow. "He's here."

Clint squeezed her hand and put his other hand on her shoulder.

"Cora, listen to me, he's locked up. He can't hurt you."

"But he's here." She started to double over as her breathing came faster.

"And so are we." Clint nodded toward the rest of the team. "No one here will let him hurt you, do you understand?"

She nodded.

"Breathe, Cora."

She blew out a breath.

"Come on, follow me."

Clint took a deep breath in and let it out slow. After a few tries, Cora matched his breathing and the panic attack passed.

"Good. You wanna go to your room?"

"Yes."

"Ok, let's go."

He squeezed her hand, but she pulled it from him and wrapped her arms around herself. Clint felt like it was a step backward, but she followed him close as they walked.

Cora curled up in her chair and cried. She looked broken. Clint knelt in front of her.

"Cora, you're safe."

He took her hand. She tried to pull away, but he held fast. He was pushing it. He knew that. But he wouldn't let her retreat back into herself.

"Cora, look at me. Do you trust me?"

She stared into his eyes for a moment, then gripped his hand and nodded.

"I won't let anything bad happen to you. I promise."

She nodded, but the tears kept coming.

"I can't see him."

"You won't have to." He stood. "I'm going to talk to the team and see—"

"No." Cora gripped his hand tighter. "Please don't leave. I can't be alone knowing he's here."

"He can't get to you."

Cora shook her head. "Please, Clint."

He knelt back down. "Ok. I won't leave. How about you take the bed so I can have the chair, huh?"

Cora nodded and curled up on top of the covers. She kept her eyes on Clint.

"I won't leave. I promise."

After Cora cried herself to sleep Clint was able to doze off, but she was fitful. He woke not long after to grunts and whimpers only to find her asleep, her face scrunched. He watched as her restlessness got worse until she bolted up with a scream, and disappeared right before his eyes.

He jumped to his feet, "What the—" and ran back to the common area. "She's gone."

Steve stood. "Who's gone?"

"Cora. She just... vanished into thin air."

"Clint, she couldn't just—"

"In front of my eyes, Cap!"

"You actually saw it?" Tony asked.

"Yes!"

"Ok. HYDRA put a tracker in her. Deeply embedded, so we didn't remove it, but we did change its frequency."

"We can track her?"

"Yep."

A few minutes later they were in a room with tracking equipment, and Tony projected monitors up on the walls.

"There... Chicago."

Clint walked closer to the image. "Where in Chicago?"

Steve let out a breath. "That's the HYDRA base."

"How the hell did this happen?" Clint took a deep breath. "You know what, it doesn't matter right now. We have to go get her."

Clint was on his way out of the room when Natasha grabbed his arm.

"What are you doing?"

"Going after Cora."

"We don't know what happened, Clint. People don't just vanish."

"I don't care. Do you guys understand that she was tortured in that place? If she's back there-"

"Ok," Steve said, "but we have to be careful. If HYDRA knows we cleared that base out, they may try to get back in, thinking we won't go back. There could already be people there."

"All the more reason to get to her now."

"I agree, but we do this smart. We don't know what we're walking into."

Clint nodded, and Steve gave out orders. They all suited up and were on the jet in less than ten minutes.

"Just one heat signature," Tony said. "Looks like the cell block."

"All right," Steve said. "Clint, she trusts you, so you lead once we get to her location. We'll watch your back, just in case."

Once they were on the cell block, Clint stepped out front. Each cell door was solid metal with one small, double-pane window. He looked into each one until he found her in the third. She was on a mattress on the floor, curled into the corner.

"Cora?"

Her head shot up. "Clint?" She burst into tears. "Please get me out of here."

Clint tried the door. Locked.

"Stark, you wanna help out here?"

Tony cut around the lock and stepped back. Clint pushed the door open slowly.

"Are you ok?"

Cora was on her feet and in Clint's arms before he could finish the question.

"Get me out of here."

Her entire body trembled. Clint wrapped his arms around her, trying to comfort her.

"We've got you. It's ok." He pulled out of her tight embrace and her knees buckled. "Ok. Here we go."

Clint picked her up and she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, burying her eyes in his neck.

"Take her to the jet," Steve said. "I want to do a quick run through to see if we missed anything last time. Natasha, you go with them."

Natasha stayed alert until they were safe on the jet. Clint put Cora into a seat.

"Let's get you strapped in."

"No. No straps."

Clint hesitated just a moment, but put his hand to her unscarred cheek. She didn't pull away.

"Cora, I know you don't want to feel confined, but you will need to be strapped in once we take off."

She shook her head, and Clint turned to Natasha.

"How did you guys get her to New York the first time?

"I sat her next to me and just... kept an eye on her. You know the jet's a pretty smooth ride."

"Ok..." he knelt in front of her. "I won't strap you in."

Cora let out a breath. "Thank you." She wrapped her arms around herself. "How did I get here?"

"We don't know. You were asleep, you sat up, and you were gone."

"I remember... I was dreaming. Of this place. They had me on the table... and Schmmm—"

"Schmitt?"

She nodded. "He had me dragged back to my cell."

"Dragged?"

"I could never walk after. And his... his face... was in the window. And then I was actually there. I thought I was still dreaming, but..."

She tightened her arms around her waist.

"We'll figure it out."

"How?"

"Schmitt," Natasha said. "That's why we took him alive and brought him back. We want him to talk."

Cora rocked back and forth. "Can we leave?"

"We're just waiting for Steve and Tony. We'll be gone soon."

Clint buckled himself into the seat next to Cora, and she took his hand.


	6. Chapter 6

Cora didn't want to get off the jet. It took a lot of gentle coaxing and the knowledge that Schmitt was at least a dozen floors away from her in the tower for her to even consider stepping back inside.

She clung to Clint's hand. The fear of being back in that place, the relief of seeing Clint there to rescue her, it flipped a switch. She suddenly couldn't bear to think of not having him with her.

He sat next to her in the common area while the others stood talking. She couldn't focus on their words, just the presence of Clint's hand in hers. A connection. Safety.

It was only Schmitt's name that drew her attention to the conversation. Her entire body tensed.

"The files we found today have his name all over them," Steve said.

"We just need to get him to talk," Clint said.

Natasha grinned. "I can make him talk. One way or another."

"Let's go."

Clint stood to leave, but Cora tightened her grip on his hand.

"Can you stay?"

He sat back down. "I'd really like to be involved in his interrogation. Do you want to come with us?"

She shook her head, eyes wide.

"He wouldn't see you," Clint said. "There's one-way glass."

"No. I never want to see his face again."

"Ok. But this can help me learn what happened to you without you having to tell me details. I could help you better."

"You're already helping me." She wrapped both of her hands around his. "Please."

"All right. I have a few question I want answered, though. I'm gonna go talk to Nat, just for a minute, so she knows what to ask him. Ok?"

Cora nodded, and her grip on his hand loosened.

—-

Natasha followed Clint to a corner across the room, still in Cora's sight, but out of earshot.

"She's really clinging to you."

"Yeah, a complete one-eighty. Just a couple of days ago I couldn't touch her."

"Fear is a powerful thing."

"Let's hope it works on Schmitt. I want to know what they did to her. I want to know how she disappeared and ended up in Chicago. Mostly, I want to know what he did to her... personally. She's petrified of him, and she told me he was 'oddly affectionate.'"

Natasha quirked an eyebrow.

"Her words," Clint said. "I want to know what that means."

"You're kind of taking this personally, aren't you?"

"I've been with this woman through panic attacks and nightmares. Yeah, it might feel kind of personal."

"Understood."

"Thanks, Nat."

Clint sat next to Cora again as Steve and Tony followed Natasha to interrogate Schmitt.

"So," Clint said, "you're probably exhausted. Wanna get some sleep?"

"No... what if I have another nightmare and end up back there?"

Clint nodded. "Ok. How about food? It's almost lunch. You hungry?"

"I could eat."

"You like pizza?"

She nodded.

"There's a great pizza joint not far from here. We could walk."

"Walk?"

"Sure."

"I haven't been out since we got here."

"I know. I think you've more than earned some fresh air."

"I only have sweats," she said, and tugged at her baggy shirt.

"That's ok. We can raid Nat's closet."

"I won't fit in her clothes."

Clint ran his eyes over her frame. "I think you will."

A blush crept up her neck.

"I'm taller."

"Oh... right. Well, Pepper probably has something here you can use."

"Pepper?"

"Stark's girlfriend." He stood and extended his hand. "Come on. Let's go on a scavenger hunt."

She took his hand and he pulled her along.

"Are you sure Pepper and Tony won't mind?"

"Pepper definitely won't mind, and Tony won't notice."

With Jarvis's help, they found some of Pepper's clothes, and sorted through some things that looked like they might fit Cora. Clint carried everything back to her room so she could try things on.

"I'll be in the hall."

"No. Stay."

"Cora, you don't want me in here while you're changing."

She opened her mouth to speak, then hesitated. She stared at the door a moment.

"You can just face away from me."

Clint put a hand on her shoulder. "I can't be with you twenty-four/seven. More than that, you don't need me with you all the time. You're stronger than that."

"Am I?"

"You are."

She took a deep breath. "The minute I realized where I was, I gave up. I didn't even cry. Back in that cell... I was as good as dead. Would have been better off. It wasn't until I saw you through that window that I cried, because I almost didn't believe it. It was like false hope. But when I touched you, I knew you were real. I felt more relief than the first time I was rescued."

Clint stared at her for a moment, then pulled her into his arms.

"I told you, we won't let anyone hurt you again." He pulled back and cupped her face in his hands, his thumb brushing over her scar and catching a tear as it rolled down her cheek. "I won't let anything happen to you. You're safe here. I'll just be in the hall while you change."

"But-"

"No buts. You can do it. Don't let them win by allowing them to cause you to live in fear."

Cora nodded and took a deep breath. "Ok."

"Ok. I'll be right outside."

Ten minutes later, Cora opened the door. She was wearing a pair of dark blue jeans, rolled up at the ankles, and a cream sweater with sleeves that came over her hands.

"I guess Pepper is just a bit taller than I am."

Clint lifted her hand and rolled up the sleeve.

"Just a little." He rolled up the other sleeve and stepped back. "Looks good on you, though. Ready?"

Cora nodded and took Clint's hand. His gazed flicked down for just a moment before he smiled at her.

As they made their way through the crowded sidewalk, Cora seemed to shrink into herself. Her shoulders hunched, her head lowered, and she pulled her hair forward to cover her scar.

Clint squeezed her hand.

"Tell me something about yourself," he said.

"Like what?"

"Like... what do you do for a living?"

"I was a paralegal."

"Was?"

"I doubt I still have my job waiting for me."

"Probably not, but you're still a paralegal."

She shrugged. "I guess. My old life seems so far away."

"Well, you must be pretty smart, huh?"

She shrugged.

"Nah... don't be modest. You're practically a lawyer."

"Sort of."

"Do you like it?"

"I did. Law is... both firm and flexible."

"Let me guess, you wanted to save the world?" Clint smiled.

"I did. But the business can really get you off that track. Lawyers start to care about their success record more than anything else. It's all about reputation. Not like what you and your team do. You actually do save the world."

"We do what we can."

"Now who's being modest?"

Clint grinned. "We're here."

He held the door open for her and pointed to a table that was a little more secluded than the rest.

They talked while they ate, about music, movies, hobbies... whatever they could think of. Cora got more relaxed the longer they were there, but certain loud noises still made her flinch. The worst was when a misbehaving child screamed at the top of his lungs. Cora dropped her slice of pizza and squeezed her eyes shut.

"You ok?"

She nodded. "The screaming. I could always hear the others screaming."

Clint took her hand and she gripped it tight.

"It will get better."

She nodded. "Doesn't seem like it right now."

"I know."

She stared at their joined hands. "You can't imagine what a comfort you've been to me. You're an amazing person."

Clint shook his head. "Any decent person would help you."

"Not like you've done. Not everyone. Not even the others on your team."

"Of course they would."

"They left me alone after they got me to the tower. Barely tried to speak to me. I was terrified of what they might do."

"Steve said you seemed more comfortable alone, so they wanted to give you space."

"You gave me space, but still reached out. It made me realize you wanted to help me, not hurt me. You cared."

"They care. They do."

"They care about putting the pieces together so they can track HYDRA better. You wanted to interrogate Schmitt to help me."

Clint shook his head. "Cora-"

"I'm not saying they don't care at all. I know they wouldn't let me get hurt again. They just..." She laced her fingers through his and held tight. Her eyes filled with tears. "They're not you. I trust you."

"Then trust me when I tell you they care."

Cora nodded and pulled her hand back.

"I trust you."


	7. Chapter 7

After being awake for almost thirty hours, Clint finally convinced Cora to get some sleep. She was so tired that it didn't take long for her to drift off. Clint stayed with her until she was in a deep sleep, then he went into the viewing room attached to interrogation.

He didn't even bother to switch on the audio. Natasha sat opposite Schmitt, unmovable, but so was he. He said nothing for a full fifteen minutes before Natasha walked out and joined Clint in the viewing room.

"No cooperation, huh?"

"None. I'm about to get less than friendly."

"Good."

Natasha leaned against the glass and folded her arms.

"How's she doing?"

He shook his head. "Hard to say." He leaned back against the glass next to her. "There are moments she seems to be doing better, then there are times when she retreats back into herself, terrified."

She nudged his shoulder with her own. "What you're doing for her? It's good."

"I'm not sure I'm doing anything."

"You're there. That's what she needs. You're good at that... seeing people. Seeing what they need."

Clint grinned. "I think you're biased."

"Damn straight. You're a good man Clint. She needs that. She spent way too long with bad ones."

"I just wish one of them would talk. Cora can't do it. She's tried, but it's too hard for her. We need this bastard to-"

Clint turned to look at Schmitt, and froze. Natasha followed his stare. Cora was in the room with Schmitt. His arm was wrapped tight around her waist, holding her against him. He squeezed her wrist in a vise-like grip. Schmitt's face was hidden next to Cora's terrified, pale face, eyes so wide they practically screamed for help.

Clint ran from the viewing room and burst into interrogation. Schmitt and Cora both looked toward the door. Cora cried out and tried to run to him, but Schmitt grabbed tight around her waist and pulled her back into him, hiding behind her.

"Let her go."

"She came to me."

"Not by choice."

Schmitt nuzzled next to her ear. "Is that true?" She gave no response so he squeezed her tighter. "Is it?"

Cora nodded.

Schmitt sighed, "You wound me, my sweet."

"If you don't let her go, I'll wound you."

Schmitt released her, and she ran straight into Clint's arms. He pulled her from the room as Natasha stepped inside.

In the hall, her knees buckled and Clint lowered them both to the floor.

"Breathe. I need you to breathe."

She sobbed as her breath hitched.

"Cora, look at me." He took her face in both hands and lifted it until their eyes connected. "In and out. Breathe with me."

She tried, but she was sobbing so hard that she couldn't match his rhythm. Clint moved to her side and wrapped his arms around her. He tucked her head beneath his chin and she gripped his shirt. Clint ran a hand over the back of her head.

"I've got you. You're safe."

Clint closed his eyes. He had a sudden dizzying sensation, so he opened his eyes again.

They were on the floor in Cora's room.

"Cora..." he pulled her back. "Look where we are."

Cora glanced around. A brief, small smile, relief, flashed across her face before she sobbed again.

"What's happening to me?"

Clint pulled her back into his embrace. "We'll figure it out. Jarvis, get Stark."

"Right away, sir."

Cora pulled back. "Why do you need Stark?"

"You've been awake for too long, and under too much stress. I'm going to ask Tony to give you a mild sedative so you can rest."

"No."

"Cora, you need rest, and I need to talk to my team. I don't want to leave you here alone and scared."

"Then stay."

"What did we talk about? You're stronger than this."

Cora shook her head.

"I wouldn't even give it to you if you weren't afraid to go to sleep, but you need to rest."

Tony appeared in the doorway. "What's up?"

"No sedative," Cora whispered. "I don't want to sleep."

"Cora, look where we are. We were in the hall, floors away. Whatever is happening, you don't need to be asleep. Whatever this is, I think it's feeding off your fear. A sedative will stop that for now."

"What if you're wrong?"

"Do you trust me?"

Cora nodded and squeezed Clint's hand.

"Stark, I need a sedative that will keep her calm so she can sleep... no dreams."

"Got just the thing. Be right back."

Clint sat at Cora's bedside while Tony gave her the sedative. The tension faded from her body as it kicked in, and she was asleep faster than Clint thought she would be.

"You have that interrogation room recorded, Stark?"

"Of course."

"Audio?"

"You could hear a pin drop."

"I want to see it."

The four of them stood in front of a projected screen in the viewing room. Cora suddenly appeared with her back to Schmitt. She seemed disoriented until Schmitt said her name, then she froze, and she trembled hard enough to be seen on the recording.

"My sweet Cora. It worked," Schmitt said as he stood and walked to her.

Cora took a step back and shook her head, but Schmitt wrapped his arm around her waist.

"And you came to me." His finger grazed over the scar on her cheek. "I always wanted you to be mine. Now you're here."

She slapped at his hand, and he grabbed her wrist.

"Manners, my sweet." He leaned next to her ear. "Have you forgotten how I punish misbehavior? I would much rather reward you. If you get us out of here, we can be together."

When Clint burst in, they stopped the recording.

"This guy makes my skin crawl," Natasha said. "And I've been around some serious creeps."

Steve sat and scrubbed a hand over his face. "He definitely knows what was done to Cora. He said 'it worked.'"

"This is the second time she just poofed to another location," Tony said. "It's teleportation."

"Seriously?" Natasha said.

"You have a better answer?"

Natasha shrugged.

"Barton, when you were convincing her to take the sedative, you said you were floors away, and then-"

"We were in her room. Both of us."

"How is that possible?" Steve asked.

"I was holding her in the hall, outside of interrogation. I closed my eyes a second, but I got this weird feeling, so I opened them and... we were on the floor in her room."

"Think about it," Tony said. "Schmitt asked her to get them out of there. He knows what she can do. He created her."

"He didn't create shit," Clint growled.

"You know what I mean, Clint."

"We have to understand how it works. She needs to get a handle on this so she can live her life and not end up in places from her nightmares."

"You said it yourself," Tony said. "Fear. Right now it's playing off of her emotions. She's focused on a place or a person, fear sets in, and boom. There she is."

"What about getting to her room?" Steve asked.

"Her safe space. Probably all she wanted at that moment was to be safe in her room."

"And she took me with her?"

"If she's powerful enough? Why not? She was holding onto you, right?"

Clint nodded and Tony shrugged.

"There you go."

"Are we really settling on teleportation here?" Steve asked.

"It fits, Cap," Clint said. He stared at the screen, at Schmitt's image. "I want a crack at him."

"No," Steve stood, "you're way too attached to her to be in a room with Schmitt."

"Did you hear what he said to her?"

"I did."

"Do you understand that she can't even think about this man without zoning out or freezing up, and she just came face-to-face with him... in his damn arms?"

"I understand, but if we want answers we need him alive and awake."

"I can do that."

"And able to speak."

Clint groaned. "Just one shot. That's all I want."

"That's all you need. I'm saying no. Natasha will get what we need."

"Now that I've seen him interact with Cora? I've got it."

Steve nodded. "Cora's resting. I think that's a good idea for all of us. We'll get Schmitt back in his cell and Natasha can go again in the morning."

Natasha and Tony left, and Steve put a hand on Clint's shoulder.

"Get some sleep."

"Sleep? What's that?"

"I mean it, Clint. If I see you anywhere near Schmitt-"

"I got it, Cap."

Clint wandered back to Cora's room. She was still sleeping peacefully. The tension was gone from her face.

"Maybe I should take that sedative," he mumbled.

He sat on the edge of the bed and stared at her. She'd been through so much, and there was so much he still didn't know. As messed up as she was, he couldn't image why she wasn't worse. Why did she trust him at all? Especially when he tried to touch her the night they met. After what he just witnessed of Schmitt, it was no wonder she didn't want to be touched.

Yet she'd managed to somehow keep herself locked away through it all. He saw hints of a sense of humor. She liked to talk about certain things if you really got her going. She wasn't broken. Not completely. He had to make sure she saw that.

Clint grabbed an extra pillow from her bed, lay down on the floor, and let the exhaustion take him.


	8. Chapter 8

Cora woke slowly, and stretched. She felt refreshed. Maybe for the first time since...

Her eyes popped open. She was in her room. She blew out a breath and sat up. Clint was asleep on the floor next to her bed.

He was right about the sedative. She didn't realize how much she needed the sleep. After months of two or three hours at a time, if she was lucky, a full night's sleep felt amazing.

She opened her mouth to say his name, but she stopped. How long had he stayed awake after she went to sleep? Maybe he needed the sleep, too.

A familiar scent hit her when she moved to get out of bed, and her stomach turned. Schmitt. He was all over her clothes. She ripped the sweatshirt off without a second thought, then grabbed a change of clothes and slipped into her bathroom for a shower. The more she thought about being in his arms, the harder she scrubbed. The memories of being on his table came back more vivid than before.

Memories of before he broke her. Before she gave up hope. The way he grabbed her wrist in interrogation... punishment. She brushed her fingers over her scar.

No. Don't think about him.

Clint's arms. That was a much better place to be. Her protector. He'd done so much for her that she wasn't sure she could ever pay him back.

She dried off and got dressed. Clint was still asleep. The pen on the desk caught her attention, and she smiled. She wrote a quick note and placed it on Clint's chest as she left her room.

It took her a few minutes to get her bearings in the kitchen, but she soon had a batch of pancakes ready. She was cleaning up the counter when a voice made her jump.

"So I wake up, and there's this note."

She smiled.

"'Making pancakes. Feel free to join.' Gotta be honest, after last night I wondered if we'd get you out of bed."

Cora put a couple of pancakes on a plate and put them on the table, nodding to the chair for Clint to sit. She put more on another plate and joined him.

"When I woke up this morning, I almost forgot all the bad stuff. Just for a second. You were right about the sedative. I needed sleep. A lot happened last night, and sleeping, actually sleeping, gave me a clear mind about some things."

Clint took a bite of his pancakes and hummed. "These are good."

Cora smiled. "That's the first thing. You have done so much for me. This is just... a small way of saying thank you. Literally, the least I can do. I don't even know where to start."

"Cora, you don't have to-"

"I want to."

Clint nodded. "Ok. You said that was the first thing?"

"Right. The second thing is what happened to me. I want to talk about it. I didn't want to before, because I didn't want to think about it, but I'm thinking about it anyway. I never stop. So... I'm ready."

"You're sure?"

She nodded. "I know it won't be easy, but I'm ready. And I need to start with Schmmm..." she took a deep breath. "Schmitt."

"Ok. How about we finish breakfast, then we can talk?"

Cora nodded, and they chatted as they finished eating. When they were done, Clint extended his hand. Cora laced her fingers through his and they walked back to her room. Clint tried to let go of her hand as she sat on the edge of her bed, so he could sit in the chair, but she tugged him back.

"Sit with me."

Clint nodded and sat next to her, their joined hands in his lap.

"Schmitt," she said, "is why I lost hope in that place. He wore me down. Beat me into submission."

"You had bruises in the photos in your file. He did that to you?"

"Some from him. Some from the procedures." She touched the scar on her face.

"Did he do that?"

Cora nodded.

"He said that one of his men made a comment that I was pretty, and maybe he would— you know. Schmitt dragged me into the exam room, strapped me down, and carved this into my face. He said it was to keep the other men away... make me less pretty." Tears slipped down her face as she let out a rattled breath. "When they were done with me, with the experiments, I would be his."

She squeezed his hand tighter as the memory filled her mind. The pain. The fear.

"That's why he thought you went to him in the interrogation room? Because he wanted you?"

"Yeah." She wiped the tears away. "He never accepted that I didn't want him. He would... stroke my hair, my arms... my face... before every procedure. He thought he was comforting me. He told me that I would soon be as valuable to his mission as I already was to him. All I wanted to do was throw up. Which I usually did when I got back to my cell."

Her voice cracked and tears continued to flow as she wiped them away.

"Do you need to stop?"

She shook her head. "I would struggle against them, so they would hit me. But... one day they didn't get my straps quite right and the door was open, and I just had this surge of hope and adrenaline. I knew it was stupid and that I probably wouldn't make it, but I figured even if they killed me I'd be better off. So, I made a run for it."

Clint whispered name and squeezed her hand in both of his.

"They got me before I made it down the second hall. And when Schmitt came in..." She shivered. "I had never seen him angry. He yelled about how he'd taken care of me, the whole time he beat me. I thought he was going to kill me. I did. I didn't fight back. After that, they left me in my cell for a week. When they finally put me back on the table, Schmitt was there. He struck me across the face, reminded me of how he punishes bad behavior, then went on with his usual comforting routine as if nothing had happened."

"Sick son-of-"

"I told you. He's twisted."

"Now I know you're strong. You made it through that."

Cora choked back a sob and wrapped her arms around Clint's waist. He held her while she cried.

"How long did that go on?" Clint asked. "Him hitting you?"

"I lost track of time in there, but I think it was about two months. Felt like years."

Clint held her tighter and rested his head against hers.

"I wanna rip him apart."

"I'll be fine just never seeing him again."

Cora breathed him in. She didn't think she would ever trust another person, let alone let them this close.

He pulled back and squeezed her shoulders.

"Maybe you can tell me the rest later. I think that's enough for now."

She nodded. "I'm so grateful for you." She took his hands. "I know I'm still a mess, but I don't think I'd have gotten this far without you."

"You don't give yourself enough credit."

Cora shook her head. "I know I've been clingy."

"It's ok."

"And I know I need to start being more independent, but I'm still worried about falling asleep. I can't control my dreams, and if I end up in that place again—"

"Cora, you're doing great."

"I don't want to depend on a sedative. I need to figure this out."

"We need to get you worn out by the end of the day, so that you fall asleep hard."

"How?"

"You remember that punching bag I showed you?"

"You think that would work?"

He shrugged. "Worth a shot, right?"

"Better than nothing."


	9. Chapter 9

Clint held the bag steady for Cora while she wore herself out. Three days into releasing energy through punching, and it was working. She went to bed exhausted, and her dreams, though she still had them, didn't get intense enough to force her to teleport.

"All right," Clint said, "you're just flailing now. Hit the shower."

"My arms are like jello."

"You keep this up and you'll start building muscle."

Cora scoffed. "Not interested. I just want to sleep."

She pulled the gloves from her hands.

"Why don't you let us train you?"

"Train me for what?" She asked as she wiped her face with a towel.

"To fight. To protect yourself."

Cora hung her head. "You think I didn't fight back when I was taken?"

"I'm sure you did. I've learned enough about you to know you didn't go easily. Imagine if you'd had training."

"I don't want to imagine it. I don't want to think about that day. I've talked about it, and now I want to move on."

"I get that, but—"

"But nothing. I do this to help me sleep. That's it. Goodnight, Clint."

She was out the door before he got his reply out of his mouth.

Clint strapped on a pair of gloves and went a few rounds with the bag himself. His head was a mess.

Schmitt finally started talking about his goal with Cora and the others. They wanted an army with powers, super soldiers, and they were willing to get them any way they could. Stark and Banner were working on those details.

He wanted to get his hands on Schmitt so bad for what he did to Cora. That was what scared him.

"Uh oh," Natasha said as she entered the room. "You only hit the bag when you're thinking, and that's never good."

"Very funny." He took a few more swings, then grabbed onto it. "I think I have a problem."

"We talking a 'suit up' kind of problem?"

"No, it's... personal."

"Oh." She sat on the bench in front of him and waited. "Well?"

Clint pulled off his gloves and grabbed a towel. He pulled it around his neck and ran a hand through his hair.

"I think I'm falling for her."

"For who?"

"Come on, Nat."

"For Cora?" she whispered.

"We've spent so much time together, and she's been really opening up, and..."

"And you like her."

"She's an amazing woman."

"So, what's the problem?"

"Are you kidding me? What Schmitt did to her, and the way she was clinging to me? She doesn't need this."

"Maybe not. Or maybe she does."

"She needs to learn to function on her own again. Without me."

"I think she's been doing pretty well with that."

"Better, yes. She also has to deal with a power she never asked for."

"And you're helping her with that."

"Exactly. I can't..." He ran a hand over his face. "I can't try to pursue something with her. She'll either agree out of some kind of dependency or she'll think I'm just treating her like Schmitt did."

"You're nothing like him, and she knows it."

"Doesn't matter."

"Ok, then. Why even tell me? You want me to talk you out of your feelings?"

"No. I need you to keep me in check. If you see me getting too close..."

"That's already happened, Barton."

"Natasha—"

"Fine."

"And maybe you can take over Cora's bag time at night?"

"Now, that might not work. I don't think she likes me much."

"What?"

"She stares at me sometimes. It's a little weird."

"Have you two even spoken?"

"Barely."

"Why would she not like you?"

"Don't know. It's just a hunch."

"Then I'll talk to her about it. I trust you, so she might take that as a good thing."

"You sure about this?"

"I need to step back a little. Maybe it's just me feeling a need to protect her."

"Maybe it's not."

Clint stared at Natasha, and she smiled.

"You're a pain in my ass," he said. "You know that, right?"

She shrugged. "I do what I can."

—

Clint met Cora in the kitchen the next morning for pancakes. It was becoming their thing. The others were usually up and operating by the time they got to the kitchen. Whoever got there first started the pancakes. This morning, it was Clint.

"You look tired," Cora said as she came in. "Need help?"

He shook his head. "Had some trouble sleeping last night. I have a lot on my mind."

"Is it Schmitt?"

"No. I mean, yeah, but nothing new. And not just him."

She sat at the table. "Wanna talk about it?"

Clint smiled at her. "I thought that was my line?"

Cora laughed. "I can't always be the mess."

"And you won't. So, I guess that leads me to talk about one thing." He sat with their plates and they dug in. "I brought up training..."

"About that. I'm sorry I snapped at you."

"It's ok."

"I thought about it a little while I was drifting off. I see why you think it might be a good idea."

"Good. I talked to Natasha last night, and she agreed to help you out with your bag work at night. Maybe she can help you train, too."

Cora stopped mid bite. Her shoulders tensed.

"Why is she helping at night? You've been doing that."

Clint sighed and went through all the ways he could say this without pushing her away completely.

"I think it's important that you don't rely on me for help right now. Nat's good."

She stared at her plate and absentmindedly twirled her fork.

"You ok?" Clint asked.

"I guess."

"Is there a reason you don't want Nat to help?"

She hesitated, but shook her head.

"No, come on. What is it?"

"She's... kind of intimidating."

"Hey, I hear ya. She packs a punch. But she's all fluff. Just don't tell her I said that."

Cora shoved a big bite into her mouth.

"So, what do you say? You willing to give her a shot?"

She nodded.

"Awesome. I'll let her know."

"How long have you known her?"

"Oh, man. I've known her longer than any of these guys. I lost track."

"You're close." It wasn't a question.

"Very."

Cora nodded.

"Wearing myself out to sleep is really all I've needed help with the last couple of days. Does that mean we can't hang out?"

"No. I'm just... I want to make sure you realize you don't need me. If you want to hang out, that's different."

Her shoulders relaxed a bit as she nodded.

"Good. I like hanging out together."

Clint smiled. "So do I."


	10. Chapter 10

Clint had things to do, so Cora was on her own for the day. He met her for lunch, but the rest of her day was spent reading and wandering the tower.

She found her way into a training room where Steve and Natasha were sparring. She sat quietly in the shadows and watched as they ducked, punched, kicked, and blocked. It looked like no holds barred, anything goes.

Cora was surprised Natasha could keep up with the supersoldier, let alone knock him back on his heels.

She could swear Natasha caught her eye, but her focus never wavered. It was ten minutes before Steve got her into a hold she couldn't escape, and they stopped.

"Hey, Cora," Natasha said.

Steve spun around. "Hey. I didn't see you there."

"It's ok," Cora said. "Hi."

She pulled her hair over her cheek and hunched in her seat.

"Did you come to train?" Natasha pulled at the tape wrapped around her hands.

"Not really. I was bored, so I decided to give myself a tour."

Steve smiled. "If you ever want a real tour, just ask."

"Really?"

"Sure. For as long as you're here, this is your home. You should know what's here."

"Which is practically everything," Natasha added.

"Thank you," Cora said. "I may take you up on that soon."

"Just let me know when." Steve wiped his face with a towel, then tossed it over his shoulder. "See you later, ladies."

Steve left the room, leaving Cora alone with Natasha.

"Did Clint tell you I'll be helping you with your bag work at night now?"

Cora nodded, but didn't make eye contact.

"Are you ok with that?"

"Sure."

"Good."

Natasha wrapped a towel around her neck and picked up the weapons. Cora made her way onto the mats, closer to Natasha.

"So… you and Clint have known each other for a really long time, right?"

"Long enough."

"And you always got along?"

"Well, not at first. See… I have kind of a checkered past. Clint was sent to handle me, and he ended up making a different call."

"Really?"

Natasha nodded. "But after that, he's probably my best friend."

"He's really a good friend?"

"Come on, Cora, you should know that. He's a great friend."

"No, I know. I meant… you and him. You're… just good friends?"

Natasha laughed. "Did you think we're more than that?"

Cora shrugged and pulled her hair forward.

"Cora… are you attracted to Clint?"

"I didn't say that." Her head snapped up.

"No, but you didn't have to." Natasha stepped closer to Cora and reached her hand forward, but stopped. "May I?"

Cora flinched, but nodded. Natasha tucked Cora's hair behind her ear.

"You always hide your face when you're around me. Why?"

Cora lowered her eyes. "I used to be pretty, too."

"Cora, you're still pretty. You're gorgeous."

"How can you say that when I have this huge scar on my face?"

"Because this scar can't take away from how pretty you are. This scar is your survival badge. Wear it proudly."

"No man will want me with this thing on my face. That's why Schmitt did it. So the other men wouldn't want me, because they made comments about me."

"And did the men stop making lewd remarks about you?"

Cora blinked as she stared at Natasha. "They did in front of him."

"But not behind his back?"

Cora shook her head.

"Because you're still a very pretty woman."

"Or because they were all just pigs."

Natasha nodded. "That's quite possibly true. It doesn't change the fact that you're still pretty."

Cora touched her scar. "I don't see it."

"You will one day."

"Thank you."

Natasha smiled and gave a quick nod. "So, you want to do some training?"

"No. Maybe one day, but not now."

"Ok. No pressure. I'll meet you at ten for bag work."

Cora nodded.

Around seven, Cora was lying on her bed reading a book. Clint knocked on the frame of the open door, and she smiled at him.

"Hey," she said.

"Hi. Busy?"

"Yeah, sure, because I have things to do."

Clint smiled. "Well, I'm done with what I had to do. Want some company?"

"If it's you? Sure."

Clint pulled the chair a bit closer to her bed and sat. Cora sat up and folded her legs in front of her.

"Steve said you were in the training room."

"For a few minutes. I was just wandering around. And before you ask, yes, I'm still considering it."

"I'm that obvious, huh?"

Kylie shrugged, but smiled.

"What are you reading?"

Kylie handed him the book and he read the blurb.

"Sounds interesting."

"Wanda let me borrow it."

"Steve _and_ Wanda. You've been making the rounds today."

"I spoke to Natasha, too." Cora touched her scar. "You were right. She's really nice."

"Told you."

"I had some things I thought about her… but I was wrong."

"Things like what?"

Cora stared at Clint for a moment. "It doesn't matter. I was wrong. Want to watch a movie?"

"Sure."

They went through Tony's huge digital collection before settling on Clue. Cora wanted the comedy.

Eventually, Clint kicked off his shoes and propped his feet up on the bed. Cora smiled. She had a pretty good day, even without Clint by her side all day, but she was glad to have him there. She'd missed his presence. Missed him. She wondered if he had noticed her attraction like Natasha had. Maybe that was why he decided to back away.

Either way, his mere presence soothed her. She propped herself up on her pillows, and Clint's soft laughter lulled her to sleep.

She woke to a dark room and quickly turned on the light, flinching at the sudden brightness. Midnight. Clint was gone, but there was a note in his place. She got out of bed and sat in the chair to read it.

_You looked so peaceful that I didn't want to wake you. Hope you slept well._

She had, but she was awake now, and her growling stomach would never let her get back to sleep. So, she went to the kitchen.

Clint sat at the table with a bowl of cereal, the box open next to him.

"Hey," he said. "You're awake."

"I am. Why are you awake?"

He shrugged. "Couldn't sleep."

Cora sat across the table from him.

"Something's bothering you."

"Nah, I'm ok." He played with the cereal in his bowl.

"No, I can tell."

Clint smiled. "You think you know me so well?"

"I've certainly spent enough time with you."

"Yeah. Just some stuff on my mind."

"Wanna talk about it?"

He shook his head. "I'm ok. Really."

"Ok."

"Want some cereal?"

"Yes. I'm starving."

She moved to get up, but he grabbed her wrist.

"I got it."

Clint got her a bowl and spoon, poured the milk, then set it in front of her.

"Thanks." She poured a bit of cereal onto the milk. "So, do you have things to do tomorrow?"

"You mean today?"

She chuckled. "Yeah, I guess it is."

He shook his head. "No, Steve needed me to look over some stuff, but I was able to get through it all yesterday."

"So… can we— I mean, do you want…"

"You wanna hang out?"

Cora nodded and smiled.

"Sure. Anything particular in mind?"

"I was thinking I'd like to try to get out of the tower again."

"You have been doing better."

She nodded. "I've never been to New York. Do you think we could play tourist?"

"Empire State Building?"

"Statue of Liberty?"

"Central Park?"

"The Met?"

"Woah… you just went out of my expertise."

"I like art."

"Well then that's where we'll go." Clint smiled and took a bite of his cereal. "I want to get to know you better, so this will be a nice insight into what you like."

Heat flooded Cora's face, and she knew she was blushing. She put her head down to take a bite, and let her hair fall forward, but Clint brushed it back behind her ear.

"You'll get hair in your milk… or milk in your hair."

She adjusted the hair where he'd tucked it, but as she pulled her hand away she let her fingers trail over her jaw where his had brushed.


End file.
